


The End of Autumn

by Jadenite



Category: Longmire (TV), Walt Longmire Mysteries - Craig Johnson
Genre: M/M, No Plot/Plotless, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:08:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27801295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jadenite/pseuds/Jadenite
Summary: Walt and Henry went “hunting,” in the late November months in Sweetwater County. They found no deer, but reacquainted themselves with one another. That was the point. After all, November would not come again for another 337 days.
Relationships: Walt Longmire/Henry Standing Bear
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11





	The End of Autumn

It was the last month of autumn in Wyoming; the trees were stripped bare and the forest grounds littered with orange leaves. Soon it would be winter, everything blanketed in the sharp white of clarity. And it would be three seasons before such a time came again. For now, there was nothing but them, he and Henry, for miles and miles. None to witness, nor to judge, and this was not by happenstance. But exactly how they wanted things to go. They said they came out here in _Sweetwater County_ to hunt deer but the only deaths that touched them are _les petits décès._ There was no blood spilled, not now. And the only hunting they have done has been of the almost-forgotten pleasures to be found in one another. Made if not sweeter, then more richly prized for its abstinence. 

Henry’s talented hands, well versed in bed-sport, ghosted over the skin above Walt's ribs until small huffs of laughter were torn from his mouth, _not ticklish!_ , Walt denied. All the while softly laughing. 

Walt, in turn, having shaken Henry from his usual, remote, calm in throes of passion. Walt relishing each small whine and whimper, _come for me, Henry!_ , tumbling among the orange autumn leaves. As if returned to days past.

Walt should have been cold but he wasn’t. The warmth shared between their bodies pressed close, naked skin to naked skin, let nothing come between them, not even the brisk wind cutting down from the mountain peaks towering in the far off distance. Everything in the outside world seemed at a distance, a thing to be thought on later, as he took his pleasure as he would have it. With him who would have him. 

Walt pulled in deep breaths, sweat cooling at the hollow of his throat, and the groove of his hips where Henry was pressing down on him; a welcome weight that pinned him to the sleeping bag they had decided to share on this night. It _had_ been cold, the air between their breaths misting white trails of smoke. But not anymore. The heat generated between their bodies was too great for any coldness to usurp. 

“Still got it,” Walt teased, his hand running down the notches of Henry’s spine. Muscles jumped, flesh twitching at his lazy exploration. Henry grunted, struck wordless as his chest heaved. He too was still reclaiming his breathing.

“Yes, you still _got it_ ,” Henry finally muttered, sleepy and sated, as he usually was after a bout of intense lovemaking. He made no move to roll aside, which was a nice change. He did not always remain so still, letting Walt do as he liked; his hands running down the base of his neck, the sleek line of his hip, before lightly swatting the perfect curve of his ass. 

Henry _hmffed_ a garbled protest but said nothing, content to lie stretched across Walt like some great mountain cat. Sated, and well pleased. 

Walt grinned, folding his arms behind his head smug as the cat who's eaten the canary. Walt might as well have had the whole flock, from the way he felt right about then. Happiness made the stars glow brighter in the pale darkness and the becoming play of moonlight across his partners face was worth lingering on; his gaze indolently committed each nuance to memory. Pale moon glow softened the hard angles of Henry's face, brushing over the warping of time that made tiny laugh lines at the corner of his eyes. His hand moved, as if of its own will, thumbing at the side of Henry’s face, as if with a swipe of his thumb he was dusting off the little signs of times passing. Henry, much more willing to be touched with such obvious, infinite care, after sex, leaned into it. Into _him_ , with a small pleased sigh; no more than a breathy exhale to break the near-silence of the night. 

“You good?” Walt asked, flicking at Henry’s hair which had curtained over the side of his face, casting half into shadow. He felt the steady thump of his partner's heart. Inhaled the natural scent of him, and wondered, that even after all the years they’d known one another it still got to him. Broadened his senses, and awakened the wild hunger that sprung into life in the unexpected moments. It made life more with the living. In all the best ways.

Henry rested his head against his chest, his own hands playfully threading through his hair. “I am very good, Walter, I would say _thank you_ but that would be eminently crass.” 

Walt chuckled, the sound cut off when Henry surged forward pressing his lips to his, swallowing the huff of breath and the moan which followed as he licked into his mouth until the heat of their earlier passions were hotly ignited. Walt grasped at his trim waist, grinding his re-awakening hardness against sex-flushed skin. Henry was still slick and sweaty from before. If he just shifted up. _Oh, there_. Walt groaned, it was pulled out of him as Henry shifted _just_ so. It was perfect. _Henry_ was perfect.

Henry chuckled, warm breath ghosting across the notch below his chin, gently nipping at his earlobe causing every muscle in his body to tense up. He figured he must have said something of that aloud but he didn’t care. When Henry looked at him, really looked, the words he rarely spoke shining bright from his dark eyes, he was lost. Walt couldn’t resist. He didn’t want to. _Let me stay here, in this moment, it’s as close to heaven as a man on earth reaches._

“I -- uh --”

“Yes?” Henry asked, his eyes crinkling at the corner. Laughing at him, the smug bastard. Walt didn’t care. He was lost to the sensation of skin sliding against skin and the weight of his best friend lying atop him. Lost, to the look that said _I love you, you idiot_. But demanded nothing. And the weight of all their years together. It was a heady thing, being so well _known_. He could feel the weight of Henry’s eyes as he paused, an answer was awaited. To an unasked question. 

His body was flush with desire, his skin burned with it, Henry’s too. Henry’s cheeks were flushed from their mutual exertions. It was heaven, and he wanted more.

“I -- I want you,” Walt finally stuttered.

Henry leaned down, wordlessly bestowing him with another kiss: slow sweetness melted his heart as their tongues dueled in lazy slides. His world narrowed down to Henry. His lips at his ear, his hardness pressed into his hip, his hand tangled in his hair. Blunt nails that gently scraped against his scalp as his body bucked, hard. Wanting more. Always _more_. Henry surrendered to him, even as he reached between their bodies to re-align their bodies. Desire cast a curious glow to the world, the stars all but seemed to blink from existence. They were distant pinpricks of light, and as nothing to the softness found in the set of Henry mouth, the inky fan of lashes, downward sweeping as their eyes locked.

Henry took him inside, joining their bodies. Again. Henry was all he could see, his breath escaping in hard, grunting gasps as Henry moved his hips, strong legs braced on either side as he rode him. It was slow and sweet and everything he might’ve asked for. Words seemed heavy and cumbersome things -- unwieldy as his brain fogged over, sparking white-hot with _wanting_. But he needn’t ask. Henry knew. Henry always just knew. 

It was good, having a best friend that understood. More soft laughter fell to his ears, amused delight, and he wondered, how much had he said aloud?

“Enough,” Henry replied, to what he had not known he’d said. Had he said? Or had his friend merely known? And then he lost all thought, everything but the tidal wave of pleasure cresting through his body. Too much, and not nearly enough. 

“Mm,” he groaned. His hands wrapped around Henry, clinging to him like a lifeboat, as he moved them to new heights, breaths coming quick and desperate. It was _tight wet heat_ , it was the slow rock of Henry moving to his own pleasure, him being tugged along in the undertow of that same impulse. It was everything. Desire, like a sea, slammed into him, and it was as if _he_ was the one surrendering, not the other way around. 

Maybe that was so. Walt didn’t care. All he cared about was the man who held him together with strong, calloused hands, and the soft kisses rained down on his face, his neck, as he came. He might have panted out Henry’s name, a benediction, an oath, wrapped up in his best friend's name. But he didn’t remember too well. The world outside what he felt, the breathe shared between he and Henry as their bodies cooled in aftermath, became a distant thing.

Walt did remember Henry's soft groans, as if pulled from the very heart of him, the wetness against his belly as his partner tripped over that ledge with him. Henry was always quiet in these moments, his expression this blank calm belied by the feverish heat in his eyes, the tight grip of his hands that would leave purple bruises. Walt knows he said his name, _Walt!_ , and that he shook with the force of it; a fine tremor shaking through him that he would hate for Walt to know of. So he pretended he did not, holding tightly to Henry while he could until the time for that passed. It was rare, moments like this, Walt took what he was given. 

Henry stopped shaking, but Walt didn’t let go. Following their usual song and dance Henry rolled off of him. But Henry did not move far. 

He missed the closeness, but let him go all the same. Henry stayed close beside and they lay in comfortable silence staring up into the stars overhead. The season was coming to an end. So was the night, as it edged into the pale grey of mornings twilight. Autumn, which painted the world orange and yellow, would not return for 337 days. They did not do this so often, it was his bitterest regret. But it was also he who was more relactracent to chance more than this. It was gift enough, having known this at all. Henry let it happen as it would, as was his way.

Walt had never been more grateful than when he understood, _really understood_ , that Henry was content to let it lie.

Sleep. There was no use fighting it; he could feel its weight like a blanket tucked around his shoulders. Henry remained within the curve of his embrace, his voice ghosting across his ears in a soundless murmur, as loved to him at the freedom of rolling hills. Slowly the world blinked out of existence, sluggishness of sleep creeping closer. Henry said something, but whatever it was was lost to the soft darkness of sleep falling over him. But Walt didn’t need to hear to know.

“Love you, too,” he mumbled, barely conscious, patting Henry’s hand. He’d know his hand anywhere, even in pitch dark. The thin groove between thumb and forefinger where’d he’d gotten sliced by a boisterous drunk. And the raised skin at his wrist from a maniac with a vendetta against _the sheriff_. He didn't want to look to hard at all the marks that he had caused, the nicks and grooves, some that cut deeper than skin. Walt turned his face away.

It had been cold earlier. Yet for the winds howl and bluster all that Walt felt was a embracing warmth as a different sort of heat shot through him. It reached right down to his bones. The important thing was they were together, he and Henry, curled up beside the dimming light of their campfire on their annual _deer hunting expedition_. If only this moment, between sleep and awake, could last forever. And the rest of the world needn’t ever known.

**Author's Note:**

> So, I tried my hand at an "established relationship" encapsulated in a moment that could have been almost anywhere in the LONGMIRE timeline. Feel free to share your responses should you wish. This was just something new I tried. ❤️


End file.
